Bartimaeus and the Shrew
by Coati
Summary: Just as Bartimaeus was settling in for an eternity of peace and quiet he gets summoned by another scrawny kid claiming revenge. Takes place five years after the final book of the Bartimaeus trilogy.
1. Son of a Magician

**This is my first story, so any advice or comments would be awesome. Also, people who are familiar with the books know that Bartimaeus uses footnotes when he narrates. Because Fanfic doesn't have them I'm using text in _{} _brackets instead.**

**Enjoy!**

My essence welcomed the rest and spread out taking in the healing of the other place. Although Nathanial had discharged me for a few weeks before he was called back that was hardly enough time for it to heal properly after being degraded by the two years of servitude. My essence shuddered, thinking about Nathanial. Why would he do something like that? Pulling a Ptolomy on me and expecting to have redeemed those exhausting two years during which he acted like such a magician? Mind you, the last few days were an improvement. Of course, only when he was showing potential did he go and get crushed. The iron girders were meant to finish off Nouda but hundreds of pounds of metal coming down couldn't have been too good for Nat either, iron or not.

After some amount of time, I began looking at the events in a different light. Their world thought I was dead, all record of me would be marked with "Deceased" and I may never be summoned again! All eternity to drift around in the Other World, it was a very pleasant thought.

Just as I was pondering whether eternity was long enough to fully restore my poor essence I felt a familiar tug. _Oh no you don't._ And I tried to resist, but as usual I was dragged unwillingly back into their world. My essence needed something to be compressed into and I decided an incarnation of my opinion of the situation. It was a thick black cloud with the odd spine sticking out. Lighting flashed within occasionally and a pair of glowing red eyes peered out peeved.

"What do you want." The cloud said, annoyed and unceremoniously, or at least until it saw the person who'd had the nerve to summon it.

A scrawny boy with sandy brown hair stared up at me, flinching every time I let loose a flash of lightning that lit up the dreary room.

Well, This was familiar.

The boy was a small, spindly character who couldn't have been much older than ol' Nat when I first had the _pleasure_ of meeting him. I sprang a huge head and a few taloned claws, _{Both taloned _and_ clawed. I think that's pretty impressive.}_ hoping to shock the kid out of the protective circle he was sitting in so I could go back and return to my peace.

It had the intended effect and the squirt would have leaped up to run for his closest parental figure if he hadn't tied his ankles and a wrist to heavy weights.

I decided this kid wasn't worth my usual wit and briskly checked the pentacle for any mistakes. There was something a bit unusual about it, but no problems, so I decided to do the usual thing for these sorts of situations. Act too big, of too small for the person. Most of the time magicians don't actually summon someone like a high level djinni and have them work on the first summon._{Though, I can think of an exception right off the bat.}_ They usually call them up, see if the being is worth their time then send them back until they decide. Honestly, it's as if they're window shopping, but I have a feeling I've mentioned this before.

I decided that the best way to deal with this kid was to scare him into dismissing me. I made a show of stepping out of the cloud, with several more taloned claws, and puffing out my chest.

"Who do you think you are, summoning me?" My voice boomed throughout the room, rattling the windows long after I'd stopped talking. It was a bit of a let down how the kid seemed to keep his cool.

Well, sort of. He looked like he might have wet himself, but he was still managing to talk in a steady voice, which makes him one up from quite a few adult magicians I've dealt with.

"Who am I?" He said, he paused, probably for dramatic effect. I was never a huge enthusiast for this, why couldn't people just get to the point? I motioned for him to get on with it and he continued. "I am John Mandrakes' son."


	2. Isn't this Familiar

I have to say, I was surprised. My tooth filled jaw hung open as I grasped what had just been said. The kid had gotten me, Bartimaeus, speechless on the first day. But, like a light, my common sense quickly kicked in. Nathanial never had a girl, and if he had, he would have never shut up about it. I wouldn't have gotten a moment's peace. _{Not that I had a moment spare anyway. It's just a saying, I just thought 'd point that out. You humans can be so _thick._}_

Placing my claws near the edge of the pentacle I narrowed my eyes. All four of them.

"You're lying." I stated.

I'd expected the squirt to get all defensive but he just smiled, like I'd guessed a riddle of his correctly. _{That reminds me of one master I'd had back in Egypt. Called himself the 'Sphynx' and was a complete nut. I was summoned by him and was asked a riddle. Of course, I got it right, but I've heard stories from a few other beings I've worked with in the past that if you answered wrong he'd give you the Egyptian Flame. This is a particularly painful form of punishment and I've only heard of a few afrits who've come out of it with their essence in one piece. Luckily, the spell was lost along with the rulers of the Old Kingdom and Mr."Sphynx" has long gone with it.} _

"I know." It didn't seem that the kid had put to much effort into this bluff. Likely something to spook spirits he summons though I could only imagine the most gullible of Imps or Foliots falling for it. "But I have to say your reaction was great. A weak spot perhaps." He wagged his finger at me, as if I was some baby who'd done something wrong. This kid was pushing it.

"Hurry up and tell me what to do already." I said agitated. "What is it?" I thought if what boys normally did at this age. "Beat up someone bigger than you? Make you look good in front of a girl? Steal a powerful amulet?"

The kid shook his head, then he had to blow the hair out of his face. "No no, nothing like that. I just want you to spy on someone."

I puffed out my chest in annoyance. "You summoned me, Bartimaeus, a high level djinn to _spy_ on someone!" This wasn't to bad. If I couldn't scare the kid into sending me back now I could do a spying job relatively easily. I mean, what kind of people would a twelve year old be concerned with?

To my delight, the kid went pale at the mention of my name and rank. It was a bit more of an impression than I'd expected, but who's complaining. The boy's face was as white as the chalk circle at his feet and his eyes were wide. I was urging him on in my head to place his hand back, and consequently out of the circle, to support himself, but he held up fine.

"Djinn?" He finally said, I nodded my head as if he'd said something obvious. Actually, he did say something obvious. I properly formed a foot out of the smoke so that I could tap it impatiently.

"Bartimaeus" He paused, as he was thinking. His face somehow got more horrified. "Not, Bertimews?"

I gestured to myself, "Last time I checked, no." _{I remembered Bertimews. I worked with him once about a hundred years ago I'm guessing. He was a loudmouth foliot who wasn't even witty, just loud. He also had a terrible sense of humour. I believe that he was finally eaten, to everyone's relief, by one of the others summoned.} _I continued. "And you _do_ know Bertimews has been dead for well over a century, I'm guessing."

The colour in the kids face still hadn't returned and he was now muttering to himself. "No no, that can't be right. I swear he was still accounted for in my book. I must have pronounced it wrong." While enjoying a talking to himself I noticed that he was untying the string connecting the weights to his feet and hand. I didn't show it, but I was beginning to get my hopes up that he was going to do something stupid.

"No no Demon. You're wrong, I'm sure. Here, I'll show you."

The moment he took the step out of the protective pentacle I leapt out. I wasn't really looking foreword to my essence having to deal with digesting a human, but it could hardly be helped. At this point I couldn't be bothered to think of some witty, creative way to kill him.

I could see the shock in his eyes as I leapt towards him.


	3. Bartimaeus Who?

**Look at me, trying to update regularly. I hope people are enjoying the story so far. Next chapter you have the plot to look forward too, not just summoning, chatting and leaping!**

**James**

James had been horrified to hear that his low level foliot was actually a high level, or so it said, djinn. He was surprised that it hadn't made an effort to get him before he'd stepped out of the protective circle. He hadn't even drawn up a pentacle for a djinn, just the usual foliot one with a few extra lines he added in himself for no real reason other than to make himself feel accomplished.

So sure, his reference book of the Other Place's dwellers was a bit outdated, but it couldn't have been by a century. Though, it _did _look a bit worn and it _had _been at the back of the shelf of books. If the foloit was dead then it was no wonder it hadn't come when James had tried summoning it. But he thought he'd done something wrong and tried pronouncing its name differently a few times, thinking that might have something to do with it. Finally, someone came.

And that someone was now hurtling towards him, its ominous black cloud in tow. James froze up but was able to mutter the words to a spell before he threw his hands up to cower behind them. He didn't dare move or open his eyes and waited for the impending blackness. After about ten seconds of nothing he dared to peek through one of his tightly shut eyes to see what his spell had done.

There it was, half out of the pentacle, frozen in mid leap was the djinni who called himself Bartimaeus. James sighed in relieve, the colour began to return to his face now that the immediate danger was over.

He walked a bit closer to the suspended djinn. He was slowly gaining back his confidence. Sure, he was going to be more cautious than if the demon had been an imp or folit, but he thought the spell seemed pretty firm and he didn't have to worry too much about the djinn breaking it.

"So. Your name is Bartmus? And you knew John Mandrake."

As usual, the demon's face was left mobile enough for it to speak and make facial expression and this demon made a particularly gruesome, unamused face.

"It's _Bartimaeus_. And sure I knew him. Everyone did. Why would you need to know?"

"Hm? Oh, no reason, just double checking. I'm guessing you weren't very powerful, or at least weren't regularly summoned. "

The djinn would have puffed up in anger if he hadn't been in the bondage spell. Instead, his face showed it all "What? If it weren't for me that kid wouldn't have gotten anywhere!"

"Funny, I don't recall him mentioning you while he was alive. Bartimaeus, Bartimaeus. Hm. Nope. And either way, you'd be lying if you said you worked closely with him. His strongest and closest demons were killed the day he was."

James wasn't _trying_ to insult the Djinn, he really was just stating what he knew. His family had been interested in politics, especially when John Mandrake was in office and James remembers them talking a lot about him.

"I was with them! Only I was far to cunning for the opponent and got rid of it a few hours later." The demon sounded insulted and stated his side of the story. He thought he caught a look from the Djinn, as if it was remembering an unpleasant memory. James just shrugged at this, ending the conversation.

After a few minutes of silence Bartimaeus finally spoke up most likely he was long bored of being frozen in a pouncing position.

"What is this spell supposed to even be? You stepped out of the circle, stupidly I might add, that should have broken any power you have over me when I'm in the pentacle."

James had wondered when this would be brought up. He was particularly proud of this one and was happy that it worked on even djinn.

"I wrote it myself." He said, beaming. "It's like an eternal confinement, but without having something to confine the being into. It also isn't as... eternal. Because it draws on the energy of the pentacle from the previous summoning of that demon it can be used both in and outside the pentacle. It's like a battery; the longer you were in the pentacle the longer the demon can be suspended without the pentacle's help. You see?" James had never been able to tell anyone how his spells worked and had just blurted out the basics of one of the spells he'd spent the most time making. But he didn't mind.

The demon seemed at least slightly impressed.

James erased the old pentacle and drew up a new one, this time a proper djinni one, copied straight from the book. He placed the candles and read out the summoning spell word for word from the thick book just as the bondage spell was wearing out and the demon was slowly getting back his movement.

The summon acted as any other would when a magician wanted to speak with their demon off doing orders. Only this time it was only used to bond Bartimaeus back into a pentacle.

"Now where was I?" He stretched arms, trying to give the impression that he hadn't been fazed by the djinn's previous attempt at an attack. "Ah yes, your orders."


	4. Magician in Denial

**Bartimaeus**

The kid must be either very confident or _very_ stupid to be testing out home made 'spells'. My guess is that he's both, most likely more the latter.

I have to say though, having one of these unpolished home creations actually working, enough to keep the kid alive at least, was pretty impressive. I've dealt with two other people who've tried this. Both should have worked a bit harder before summoning someone like me. It would have also been nice if they'd done a bit of exercise beforehand. They both took so terribly long to be rid of my essence and I'm sure they had a hand in my distaste for eating humans. It's all just too much hassle.

That happened a long time ago, and new binding spells were appearing less and less now. Humans must have caught on to how experimenting lead to death. Now the most original things I hear are just slight variations of other people's work.

"I'm surprised that you're even doing something like this" I gestured using only my fingers to my immobile body that was slowly getting back control. "Most magicians are far too self preserving to actually try out something so… crude."

**{If I'd been summoned to this a decade ago I wouldn't have believed that a little kid was capable of doing anything other than summon foliots but after Nathanial I've become, more open minded as you might say. Still, I kept an eye out for any signs that the boy was simply a test to see if the spell even worked without risking the life of the real magician.}**

This offended the boy, but not in the way I intended. "Magician!" He said, in an insulted tone. He then tried what was most likely an attempt to enforce this feeling by spiting on the floor. He wasn't too good at it and wound up with an unappealing dribble down his front and chin. I snickered. His sprit seemed punctured by the failed attempt and as he wiped it off he said less boldly "I am not a magician."

"Really?" I replied, mock surprise. "Well you had me fooled. Last time I checked enslaving beings like me basically defines magicians to a 'T." I could feel the force keeping me immobile lessening gradually. Perhaps I could stall long enough to get rid of the kid after all.

"No! I want _revenge_ on a magician! That makes us nothing alike!" The boy said defensively.

"Hate to break it to ya kiddo, but vicious revenge is something that magicians love best. _Especially_ on each other."

"No! Shut up!"

"Oh look, all defensive." I smiled, I was finally getting somewhere.

"If you aren't quiet, I'll… I'll use the Red Hot Stipples on you!" He said, his voice raised almost to the top of his pre-pubescent voice. "I will!"

"No you won't" I stated. Hopefully he actually wouldn't.

Once again my skills at persuasion prevail **{Or maybe I'm just very, very lucky.}** and the kid lowered his eyes.

"What's your name anyway?" It was worth a shot. This kid seemed pretty oblivious to how summonings usually go. And constantly using 'kid' or 'boy is getting redundant. To my delight, he answered.

"William Shrew" he said without any sign of knowing how dangerous that was. "Why? What's so funny?"

I was beaming happily to myself. "Oh nothing much, William Shrew" A bit of an odd name in my opinion. It didn't exactly roll off the tongue, but it was both a first _and_ last name. If this kid wasn't a magician as he said then this was an almost full birth name. **{Middle names are nice to have, but then you're just being picky} **

As you must already know knowing your summoner's name is very useful for the captive being. As had been displayed with 'ol Nat, knowing the first name means that we can reflect some of those barbaric attacks against us when we're in the pentacle and send them whizzing right back to the wretched magician.

This was a good start.


	5. A Mess, an Aunt and Bad Cooking

James

"That stupid, stupid demon!" James paced around the room unhappily; tidying up the mess the summoning had left. He kicked some of the chalk under the carpet. If his aunt saw that he'd tried summoning something he'd be living off a diet of watery cabbage soup for a week. "The nerve, comparing me to a – to a magician!" He glared down at a scorch mark Bartimaeus had left in the floor just to the right of the protective circle. "I'm not." He muttered to himself as he dragged his desk over to cover it, all while trying not to breathe in through his nose. Simply opening the second window still wasn't enough to get rid of that horrible brimstone smell the djinni had left behind.

"William!" a voice called up from below "Supper's ready!"

"Just comin' aunty." James called back down as he desperately tried to fan the smell out through the windows.

Everyone except his parents had called him William ever since he could remember. It was really his grandfather's name and was the only thing he could pronounce properly when he was younger. He repeated it so often that people just got in to the habit of calling him by it too. Most people only know him by William so he simply got used to introducing himself by it too.

Stomping down the old stairs he flung himself around the banister as he always did and trotted in to the kitchen. The smell of cooking and spices hit his nostrils like a brick wall and he hoped that Aunty wouldn't be able to smell him though it. Somehow she did and made a face the moment he stepped up to the table.

"William, what on earth is that smell." She said, standing over the table with a big vat of lentil soup.

"What smell?" James replied, trying to act dumb. "All I smell is your cooking."

At this she slammed down the vat. Somehow the soup didn't slosh over the edges on to the table. "Don't give me cheek young man!" she said, she's well known for her short, if non-existent temper.

James hadn't even realized that what he said could have been taken as an insult. "I – I didn't mean it like that." He said, putting his hands out, in case she decided to strike with that wooden spoon in her hand. "I must have stepped in something on my way home." He said, hoping this would suffice.

It seemed to do the trick and Auntie's face returned to a normal shade of pink. "Very well then." And she dished out the soup to him and his baby cousin who'd been giggling and pointing at things this entire time. She pointed and squealed at her bowl of soup before splashing it on her high-chair with her fists.

James looked at his soup and tried not to think about how it looked unfortunately like someone had been sick in his bowl. He finished it quickly and excused himself to go back to his room, telling his aunt that he had a very important project for the shop he needed to work on.

Once back in his room he tidied up the last of the things, placing the candles away in a cupboard and putting out the incents. _What a mess this Bartimaeus has left!_ He thought to himself. Though, now that he thought about it having a djinni would be immensely better than sending a foliot for this job.

The djinni wore out his spell far faster than any of the other folios and James hoped that he had given specific enough instructions before sending the demon on its way. Demons seemed to love mixing up orders and James felt that there was hardly any room for error with anything this strong.


	6. Painfully Easy

Bartimaeus

I swooped over the damp roofs of London as a raven, they looked as grimy and undesirable as they had when I left. How long had I been gone anyhow? I perched myself on a paper boy's cart and studied the first page of today's paper until I was spotted by the boy and shooed away. Judging by the date it must have been about five years since I was last summoned. I couldn't see any serious changes around which was a bit of a disappointment. I wondered briefly what happened to the whole 'resistance' but only for a moment, my real goal was to simply get this job over with I wasn't too interested in the state of London. It changed so often that it really wasn't worth the effort.

As I headed to the parliament building the houses got more compact, but less shabby and I lulled over the orders I'd been given. It's too bad he'd been fairly specific. He'd at least had the dignity to de activate the paralysis spell completely so I could make faces and rude gestures at him to my heart's content. To my disappointment none of them threw him off as he said my orders:

_"Without revealing me, my location or anything else that may endanger my security I command you, spirit from the other world, to carry out this task: go to parliament and bring back to me any information on the status and location of the Smoking Mirror."_

_I could see he'd read this entire thing from a book, inserting the specifics himself. He then looked up from the dusty papers and added, no longer in a monotone, "You'll probably want to spy on Gregory Barclay for this."_

Not that I knew who Mister Barclay was, and the kid didn't even bother giving me the faintest idea of what I was looking for before he became all panicked because of some noise downstairs and dismissed me in a hurry.

I searched the planes and found that there were quite a few defences, which didn't surprise me since this was a parliament building. Still, there were hardly as many as the Tower and even Lovelace's home had had better security. I shifted into a cat, mainly to give my essence a change, and patrolled the border of the building's protective sphere. Looking up I saw several foliots and low level djinn patrolling but nothing much stronger. It looked as if most of the strong magicians _had_ been destroyed if the defence of one of their most important buildings was anything to go by. I managed to trot quite close to the building and spotted several fading nexus **{Nexus are a net-like spell magicians use that sound an alarm if something tries to pass through one. These were so worn that they must have been put in place years ago and were hanging on by threads.}** lining a few of the lower windows before I was shooed off for the second time this evening. The obviously bored foliot disguised as a dull coloured squirrel shifted into a dog and proceeded to chase after me, thinking I was a real cat. He must have been here for a long time to find chasing me around so interesting, so I cut his fun short by spinning around and swiping him on the nose before turning tail and running down an alley.

I returned after a few minutes, this time disguised as a low level foliot on the first few planes and a red fox on the first. I trotted over to the foliot who was sitting sulkily at his post back as a squirrel, nursing his nose.

"Ello" I interjected. The foliot just gave me a quick, irritated glance before turning away again.

"Whot happened to yer nose then?" I continued. The foliot answered after a moment with a mutter. "Nothing." it said. There was another long pause before I decided to see if I could work my skills of persuasion. " Blinkin' awful weather were havin' eh then?"

"Yeah." The foliot snapped. Apparently not in the mood for a friendly chat. He then turned to me "Look, are ya new here, I haven't seen you before and I wasn't told that I'd have a partner for the patrol." He was making himself sound superior. I suppose that's partly my own fault for choosing the form of a foliot a few levels lower than him.

"Ya got me, I am new." I replied an proceeded to scratch me neck with my back paw. **{Fleas already? Even though we were fairly close to a man hole I didn't expect the hygiene of the center of the city to have degraded that much. Although, it could have just been an itch.} **"Though I 'ave heard some interesting rumours goin' around." The foliot looked at least mildly interested by this, so I continued to the whole point of this conversation. "They concern a certain Gregory Barclay, you know him?"

"Never heard of him." The foliot responded far to quickly, this must be what he's used to saying and is practically automatic because not a moment later did he say "No, wait, I think I mighta' heard of him. Doesn't he work in that department?" **{Very helpful, thank you.}** "Yanno, the one for looking up old amulets 'n stuff?" He then paused, as if trying to think of more. "So, what's the news?"

I decided to cut the conversation short, and said vaguely "Oh, yeah, that's him. You might want to watch out for any of his imps. They're a bit, yanno." Then, as if I had suddenly remembered something important. "But I'd better go. G'luck with th' patrol." Then, before I trotted off I added hopefully "What's th' best way in by the way, new here remember." The foliot just said absentmindedly having gone back to tending to his tender nose "Side door, halfway down the wall that-a-way."

The door was considerably undefended. There was a tired looking Imp manning the entrance but I simply gave it a nod and that satisfied it.

How painfully easy. I fully expected something horrible to pop up so I kept on guard for anything.


	7. Gregory Barclay

I trotted down the hall until I heard people come up ahead and shifted to a spider who scuttled along the wall. A man who looked like he was most likely the janitor grabbed his coat from a hook and headed in the direction of the door with the imp and didn't even notice me. Climbing horizontally on the wall I made my way down the corridor. I slipped over doors and went through a room or two that were most likely storage before the place began to look more like a parliamentary building. That must have just been the unimportant staff entrance as now I could see that there were patterns carved at the top of the wall, like most pompous places. As I climbed over another door I entered in to a room that looked like it would have once seated almost a hundred people around the long mahogany table. I noted that the chairs' quality decreased the farther they got from the one nearest the main door, which was significantly nicer than any other there. Now most chairs were dusty or covered in off-white sheets leaving only about twenty looking like they'd been used any time recently. The amount of dust covering everything, carpet, chairs, table, decreased as it approached the door. Apparently the caretakers hadn't bothered with cleaning this end.

The way I got in must have been another servant door and I looked down to see that it was disguised by being covered by what I think was absolutely horrible wallpaper to match the rest of the room. I made my way over to the other end to go out the main door which was covered in eloquent designs of what were probably depictions of great battles won. **{All I saw was a bunch of crudely carved men stabbing other crudely carved men. But I suppose some people like this kind of thing.} **I went under it and looked around again. Still no luck! And I was getting frustrated. I'd hoped this would be a quick and easy job, but now it was just boring and dragging on. I spotted a figure in the corner of the room that looked like a sort of serious lounge with dull couches matching the dull walls and carpet.

Looking over the man I decided that he didn't look too important, or intelligent so I turned into a human dressed in what I remembered of the footboy uniform from when I was here last. The man turned around, he looked ancient with wrinkle upon wrinkle, and looked at me with his beady watery eyes. The first thing he said after the initial surprise of realising he wasn't alone was,

"Wot 'th 'eck are ya wearin'."

I looked down at myself. Sure, my uniform may have been a few years out of date, and I _had_ only seen the footboy at a glance. After all I had been far more preoccupied with seeing the demise of some large yellow man, though I can't for the life of me remember his name. Checking the jacket I remembered that the uniform probably hadn't been green. Wasn't it a red? Or perhaps grey?

Dismissing it I just looked back at the hunched old man. He was clutching a bottle of whiskey and a small cup that both looked like they'd come from the open cupboard with the broken lock behind him.

"I'm new." I said with an undignified scowl, irritated at using the same excuse. "Where's Gregory Barclay? I was asked to er- fetch him." I continued. Once again, to the point. That kid William better be happy when he gets back having been so efficient.

The old man didn't seem to care much about what I wore or said. And just pointed, with a wobbling gait and shaking hand, to another door.

"'Frough th' door then down th' corridor. Go left an' there's 'is office." This seemed to take a lot of memory effort for the old man. "I 'fink." he added. I nodded and headed in that direction catching a few rude words muttered by the man referring to me that I've had the courtesy to omit from this to spare your impressionable little minds.

To my surprise there was actually a door at the end of the corridor like the old man had said. I'd been doubting his perception considering that bottle had been almost half-empty. I read the name "G. Barclay" in bevelled writing on a plate hung up on the door, so it was the right place.

I paused and could hear the rustling of papers coming from the room. So, someone was in there. I shifted into a fly, and buzzed in, landing on one of the many piles of books. It looked as if someone had grabbed all of the books from one section of a library off their shelves and decided to stack them all in this small office. In the center of it all, working at what could only have been a desk almost unrecognizable under all the papers, was a man. He was probably in his mid thirties with dull black hair and rectangular glasses on as he examined one of the many books. He scribbled on a sheet of paper in long unreadable handwriting, which matched the writing on the other papers that were strewn on and under the desk. I made my way to the ceiling where I examined the place. I didn't really know exactly what I was looking for other than the vague order to find _'information on the smoking mirror.'_ At that I realized just _how_ vague it had been and cursed at how stupid I'd been to come all the way down here. I was about to return to the kid's room with an ordinary mirror so hot it smoked but was interrupted by an exclamation of "What the devil!"

I looked down to see that Gregory Barclay had gotten up out of his seat and was staring right at me. I caught the glint of contacts in his eyes and I cursed again. I hadn't bothered to disguise myself past the first plane, not expecting to run in to anyone who'd see me and just look at my luck. And of course only at that moment I noticed a book that had a note sticking out of it with what I was sure looked like the words 'Smoking Mirror' in the scribbled writing.

He summoned someone who must have been already on duty to come to him and a rather confused foliot appeared next him. "Sanwey!" He said addressing it and pointed at me excepting the foliot to know what to do. The little thing sent off a hurried detonation in my general direction which was apparently _not_ what mister Barclay had wanted because he immediately clutched his head with a horrified expression as he looked at the burn mark in the wall. Deciding it was probably best to just get out of there I grabbed the book in my now gargoyle claws and flew out of the room hastily leaving only a deliberate gust of wind that strew his papers everywhere. I chuckled as I turned to pay attenition to where I was going.

I'm sure I made a wrong turn or two as I didn't recognise the hallway any more. Looking over my shoulder contemplating whether I should just turn around and retrace my steps or just keep going until I found a nice window to break through **{Those Nexus would be no trouble to pass through, they were already worn beyond use.} **I didn't see the approaching wall.

I must have been going faster than I thought because I went right through it with a crash, littering the carpet of the room with bits of what had been a wall a moment ago. Getting up I looked around the dimly lit room for a window when I heard a familiar voice…


	8. Time and Age

"What the-?" the voice said, understandably not sure how to react to this. I turned to see Kitty, sitting up supported by a small mountain of pillows having grabbed a silver dagger, unsure if this was friend or foe.

"Kitty?" I said and she almost dropped the weapon in surprise.

"Bartimaeus?" She asked cautiously, still unsure, but I confirmed her assumption with a nod. She hurriedly put the dagger back to its resting place on the bed side table and slowly managed to get to a comfortable position where she could face me. She had gotten worse since I saw her last. The journey to The Other Place had really taken a toll on her and she she'd been aging fast these past five years. I could tell it was difficult for her to move and her lack of energy was worrying.

I brushed a few clumps of wall from my shoulder and opened my wings to rid them of the plaster before I sat down to face her also. There was a period of silence in the room; coloured deep blues by the light of the window, casting long shadows and making Kitty's face appear even more hollow and wrinkled. Kitty spoke first.

"It's been a long time since-"she started, unsure of what to say. A million different things seemed to be going through her mind on what to say. I don't blame her; I'd be surprised if I saw someone I thought was dead burst through my wall. Of course, I wasn't exactly expecting to see her either.

"But- the building collapsed. I saw it-" She said, her voice raspy and low. "Is Nathaniel-" She asked then with a glint of hope.

"No" I said, cutting her off before she could finish the question. "Just me. Lucky, huh?" I said, with regret. Kitty leant back into her many pillows; they seemed to engulf her and made her look even more grey and small against them.

I'd been rather hoping that the next time I came back to this World everything would have progressed without me and that the people I'd encountered would be long gone. Especially Kitty –I hated to see her like this, she was worse than Ptolemy. It was obvious that even this simple conversation was taking a lot of energy from her, but her eyes looked as sharp as ever.

"What are you even doing here?" She asked me a trace of the old Kitty back in her voice.

"I might ask you the same question." I replied dodging the question. "I didn't think that they'd make their parliament residential."

She didn't even have the energy to protest and simply leant even farther back in to her pillows with a sigh. "It just me, and a few of the other politicians who live here." She was no longer looking at me and instead was gazing at the wall across from her. "It's been five years Bartimaeus. Nothing's moved forward. I thought that once people started listening to us, when we'd have a say in parliament even, that things would sort themselves out. But no without… less than virtuous goals, have tried to step up. I can't do as much myself in this state" She managed a feeble gesture to bedridden body. Her eyes had begun to get teary, but she kept composed and her voice was as steady as always. "It's not like I even wanted to be here. But I couldn't travel, not like this... I'm constantly dismissed. London's so used to being complacent to their leaders that once they're given a say, they've got nothing to contribute. Everyone's happy with just keeping things the way they were, or at least they don't know enough to want anything different. I've tried making changes. Better schools and such. They don't seem to realize that I know that they haven't been carrying any of them out though." She paused, and then turned to look me right in the eye. "I'm worried Bartimaeus. This was going to be a New London, one which would help people and your kind. I don't want everything we all worked on to have gone to waste. To lose all of its meaning, like Ptolomy's work with you."

She'd struck a sensitive chord, the work Ptolomy and I had done had been with such high hopes that even nowadays I tried to convince myself that it had a lasting effect on history.

But I had been here far too long. No matter how incompetent that slave to Barclay was he'd find the wall, or lack thereof, soon enough. Kitty must have seen the distancing in my face as she then added. "I should have guessed you were being chased. My window opens over the Thames." I nodded and opened it. I transformed into a bird with large enough talons to carry the letters safely and then looked back at Kitty. She smiled sadly and I took off.

Even if I could, I wouldn't have been able to stay in that room much longer.


	9. Growing Impatience

I can't say I felt my best after that encounter. It's a good thing that humans impress me so infrequently, like Kitty and Ptolemy, as their lives are so short. How do humans even have time to grieve? There are so many of them, so many of them completely unimportant and they're there so briefly. It's all a waste of time and effort if you ask me, worrying about individuals.

Dwelling on all of that was just putting me in a bad mood. Normally I'm fine with pointing out the glaring flaws of humanity, but I was still a bit rattled from meeting Kitty again. As I said, if I ever did have to be dragged back into this world I'd rather her be long gone and not have to deal with this. At this moment though what I should really be focusing on was making my way back to that little brat William's house to get this job over with. However, when I got to what I assume was his room he wasn't there.

Well then, here I was rushing back and he doesn't even show up. After a few good moments of graciously waiting I began to inspect the room and its contents: Casually opening a few drawers and skimming though anything I found interesting.

Just then the door opened and William walked in. I couldn't say he seemed terribly happy about seeing me looking through his things. I had found his diary after all and I don't think he was taking my snickering to well.

He looked like he wanted to snatch it from my hands but I was still a gargoyle and I am glad to say that this definitely made him think twice about doing that.

"Well, you're back so must have something for me." He said, sounding as if he was trying to remind me of his control over me, even if he didn't even have the nerves to take back his silly diary.

I'd perched myself on his desk, squarely on a small pile of papers and I was very happy to pivot on the spot while reaching behind me to get Barclay's book, shredding the pages beneath me in the process.

"I can't say it was easy to get this. Barclay was pretty unhappy about parting with it, so it should contain more than enough valuable information."

William did take the book this time and flipped through it. "This is exactly what I needed!" He said, pausing at a page now and then.

"Perfect." I said, briskly. "Well, now that you've got that book you needed I'll be on my way. I'm sure you'll be able to enjoy it much more once I'm gone, so just go ahead and send me back." I couldn't return to the Other Place soon enough.

"What? Oh I'm not nearly done with you. We haven't even got the mirror yet!"

I twisted my foot, deliberately shredding the papers beneath it even more, and likely adding a carving into the table, to show my opinion on the matter. "Well then, what does the book say about that?" I said between gritted teeth. I had been completely ready to leave. Meeting Kitty had left me in an awful mood and I'm sure my impatience at this point was justified.

"Well, the first few pages aren't relevant at all. Just about metals and summoning texts. But by the sixth page he is talking about the Mirror…. But this is just the history of it… Ah, here's it's talking about its properties, but I already know about those. Honestly, I can hardly read this man's handwriting. That's alright, I'll work around it…"

This kid sure likes to talk I have a feeling that he doesn't get to ramble to many people, so I guess I'm the lucky being that gets to hear it all. If I didn't think it would slow down my job I would just cut him short. "Well, I thought you said there was some _use_ to this book?"

"Well yeah, I'm getting there. It looks like Barclay had been tracking down the mirror for quite a while. It says that it had been in a private collection until the magician was terminated with many of the other high-level ones five years ago, ha serves them right! Well, his house was ransacked once his death was announced, what with all the guards now gone. It said all of the valuable artifacts were passed on or sold off quickly but Barclay believes the Mirror was never sold."

"And I don't suppose he included an address to where we can find it?"

"As a matter of fact, he did!"

I have to say, that was a pleasant surprise. I wasn't really up to another information gathering trip; as good as I am at them. Now all I've got to hope for is that it isn't anywhere too far away.


End file.
